Roxanne Rhoads's Blog, page 214

A Bewitching Thursday

A Bewitching Thursday

Deck the Halls with Books 2018 Holiday Extravaganza: His Dark Magic by Pat Esden + giveaway #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/YdUL30mT2Pc

Deck the Halls w/ Books Holiday Extravaganza: Gifted by Sharon Ashwood (@RowanAshArt, @RoxanneRhoads ) #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/WPTi30mT2J3

A MAGIC REDEMPTION by TENA STETLER #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/xdgb30mT2EC

Black Dog: A Christmas Story by Victoria Danann - Deck the Halls with Books Holiday Extravaganza #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/5K2O30mT2FJ

THE PAIN EATER by COURTNEY DILES #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/AF1Y30mT2D8

Enchanting Yuletide: A Multi-Author Anthology #BookTour & $20 #Giveaway!! @JenaBaxterBooks @RaveMWilliams #Holiday #Fantasy @RoxanneRhoads #booklovers #WIN #books #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/zVR530mT2Hq

The Wish of Xmas Present by N.D. Jones - Deck the Halls with Books Holiday Extravaganza https://creativelygreen.blogspot.com/...

Sin City Salvation by Karen Greco #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/TDaR30mT30x

Girly-Girl by Thomas Briar - Book Tour + Giveaway #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/igZk30mT2MS

Noelle by Emily Mims - Book Tour + Giveaway #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/bsvg30mT2KV

Secret of Amber Eyes by by DK Davis Book Tour & Giveaway #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/kJZH30mT2YK

Christmas is the Time for Magic from Anne Roebuck #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/uD8I30mT34T

THE PAIN EATER: The Divine Benefactors Book Four Courtney Diles -- A beast consumed with pain could be her greatest pleasure. #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/PpO930mT392

Deck The Halls With Books: 2018 Holiday Extravaganza - Trial of a Warrior by Mary Morgan #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/yVZE30mT3i5

SPOTLIGHT - PNR - The Ghost of Her Ex by Aletta Thorne
https://thebookjunkiereadspromos.blog...

Goetia By Sam Poling Virtual Book Tour
https://teaseraddictsbookblogblog.wor...

Not So Secret Santa: 2018 Holiday Extravaganza #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/bBYR30mT2Wq

Noelle by Emily Mims - Book Tour + Giveaway #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/5uIC30mT2UN

Deck The Halls With Books: 2018 Holiday Extravaganza - Magic In The Mountains by Donna Kunkel #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/vsnC30mT2Sp

Hot Shot S.A. Stolinsky #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/gJ2Z30mT2Qq

Black Dog: A Christmas Story by Victoria Danann - Deck the Halls with Books Holiday Extravaganza

Black Dog: A Christmas StoryKnights of Black SwanBook ThirteenVictoria Danann
Genre: paranormal fantasy
Publisher: 7th House,Imprint of Andromeda LLC     
Date of Publication: December 22, 2018
ASIN: B07JBK9DNR
Number of pages: 201Word Count: 43k
Cover Artist: Victoria Danann
Book Description:
Old dogs tell no tales.
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author, Victoria Danann, brings a moving triumph-over-darkness story to the world of Black Swan.
The Hawking family is at home at the Northern Ireland farm and wolf-dog kennel for Yuletide when Blackie goes missing. Instead of a joyous celebration of family and friends, Ram's mate and elflings are beside themselves with fear and worry. As Song and Litha bring their respective paranormal abilities to aid in the search, the story takes a turn into the dark world of dogfighting and the abduction of adult male dogs matching the profile of fighters.
Black Swan rarely gets involved in the mundane affairs of the world because it's not their purpose, mission, or directive. But when Simon's office is drowned in messages from retired knights insisting that Blackie is unofficially one of them and that an exception must be made, he relents and orders available personnel to assist B Team with a rundown.

Amazon


Blackie climbed the hill to his favorite spot. He didn’t trot or run, as he’d been known to do in his younger days. He ambled, telling himself that he could trot or run if he was so inclined. He just didn’t feel like it that minute. The hill above the Laiken kennel and farm had the very best view of the surroundings. When he was there he could imagine himself to be protector of all he surveyed; his people, the land, the wolf dogs. There’d been a light snow the day before, but the morning’s bright sun had melted a small clearing that formed a patch of bright green grass. Bright sun was unusual in northern Ireland at that time of year, but dogs don’t analyze changes in weather or atmospheric conditions. They simply accept what is and adapt as best they can. When the sun shines warm on old bones, they accept it.After turning in a circle three times around the patch of green, Blackie sunk down into a sphinx pose and indulged himself in a satisfied sigh.It’s impossible to know what dogs do or do not remember. Perhaps he had crystal clear memories of his adoption by The Order of the Black Swan and recalled every detail of every adversity and adventure. Perhaps there was a vague recollection of his history. Who can say?He sat on the hill overseeing his farm. Perhaps old dogs do what old people do. They divide their reveries between recollection and remorse. Because even the best of us, human or dog, could have done things better. If there was an exception to that, it would be Blackie. Because he had never failed to give his whole heart and effort to any given task in any given moment. Surely dogs as smart as Blackie are like humans, recalling this corner of a moment or that fragment of a song at odd and inexplicable times.To Helm, Blackie was as constant as was the idea of his father, Sir Rammel Aelshelm Hawking, Black Swan Knight Emeritus and Prince of Ireland, and his mother, Lady Elora Laiken, Black Swan Knight Emeritus, former Princess of Britannia, Stagsnare Dimension.Perhaps his earliest memory was a black muzzle shoved between the bars of his baby bed resting on the sheet-covered mattress, intelligent brown eyes full of light and staring at him intently like he was the most precious thing in the universe. At fourteen he’d never confronted the prospect of surviving Blackie. He’d never considered it and simply couldn’t imagine the world without the big black dog.
About the Author:
#1 Amazon Paranormal Romance Bestseller
OVER ONE MILLION BOOKS SOLD
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author.
Knights of Black Swan - BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE SERIES (2013, 2014, 2015, 2016)
A Summoner's Tale - BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE NOVEL (2013)
Moonlight - BEST VAMPIRE/SHIFTER NOVEL (2013)
Solomon's Sieve - BEST VAMPIRE NOVEL (2014)
Falcon - BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE NOVEL (2016)
Simon Says - BEST SCIFI/FANTASY ROMANCE NOVEL (2017)
D.I.T. - BEST SCIFI/FANTASY ROMANCE SERIES (2017)
In addition to the brave and beautiful vampire hunting knights, Victoria writes other paranormal romances that often touch on scifi/fantasy along with contemporary bikers for those who love it when the bad boys are soooooo good.
http://www.VictoriaDanann.com
http://www.facebook.com/VictoriaDanannBooks


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13th Century Scotland Midwinter’s Feast

Come journey with me as I whisk you away to 13th century Scotland for a Midwinter’s feast. We shall arrive at Urquhart Castle on the banks of Loch Ness. 
This is the home of the Clan MacKay—the Dragon Knights. Their bloodline is steeped in ancient Celtic mythology. Though they respect the new religion that has swept across their land, the Dragon Knights continue to honor the old ways. Midwinter is a celebration of light and warmth here within the walls. The doors have been left open for all to enter in peace. Once you step inside, you are drawn to the holly boughs with ivy, bay, crimson-berried yew and fragrant bunches of rosemary.
The torches cast a welcoming light as you proceed onward. As we enter the Great Hall, you are met with boisterous laughter and gaiety. A bard is recanting the tale between the aging Holly King (representing the darkness of the old year), and the young Oak King (symbolizing the light of the New Year). Some of the older lasses have chosen to weave a sprig of holly onto their gowns and they nod at you in passing.
Candles illuminate the hall in a soft glow as you make your way toward the feasting tables. The Dragon Knights and their wives are seated at a longer table near the hearth. Ale and mead are flowing, along with the tempting dishes you survey as you take your place. You are tempted by the trencher of wild boar stuffed with onions and cabbages to your right. Or maybe you would prefer the spiced apples and damson tarts.
Afterwards, the minstrels begin to play a lively tune and a few of the couples grasped hands to join in the merriment. 



Trial of a Warrior
Legends of the Fenian Warriors
Book Three
Mary Morgan

Genre: Time-Travel Fantasy Romance



Publisher: The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Date of Publication: December 12, 2018
ISBN: 978-1-5092-2359-6ASIN: B07JGMH8XS
Number of pages: 386Word Count: 92628
Cover Artist: Debbie Taylor
Tagline: Will the burning embers of their past love spark a reunion or destroy a future? 
Book Description:
"You met them in the Order of the Dragon Knights. Now, journey to the realm of the Fae and witness their legends!”
A warrior sentenced to die.
On trial for breaking a supreme Fae law, Fenian Warrior, Liam MacGregor has no regrets. He is prepared to accept his sentence—even if it means his death. However, freedom comes in an unexpected manner, and brings with it certain dangers as he travels through the Veil of Ages.
A princess honor-bound to remain hidden.
Princess Abela might be a priestess and the daughter of royalty, but that doesn’t prevent her from doing the unimaginable. She sacrifices duty and honor to set free the man who captured her heart so many years ago. No matter the severity of his crimes, she cannot let Liam die.
A rescue that will bring about a war and divide a kingdom!  
In their quest to secure a treaty to forestall Liam’s death sentence, they must fight their desires for one another, as well as the Fenian Warriors sent to capture them.
Amazon


A tremor of longing to be kissed filled Abela. She should flee this instant, but her feet refused to listen to her mind.Liam reached out and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. His finger trailed down the side of her neck, and she shuddered. “You have not answered me.”“Yes,” she replied rapidly.The smile in his eyes contained a sensuous flame, and she was drawn to him. A soft breeze billowed around them. She ached to press her mouth against his. Just one kiss.As if reading her thoughts, Liam cupped her chin and stroked his thumb over her bottom lip. “Your mouth begs to be kissed, princess.”She swallowed and did the unthinkable. “Then kiss me, Liam MacGregor.”His groan echoed around them as he took possession of her mouth. The kiss sent the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl of delicious sensations. Abela’s body yearned to touch him, so she wrapped her arms around his neck. The contact of his skin against her chest ignited a burning desire for more.Liam grasped her firmly around the waist with one arm and deepened the kiss. When his silken tongue sought entry, she opened fully to the seduction, tasting wine, apples, and his own scent. His moan resonated deep within her, and she found her body responding to a rhythm as old as the land they lived upon.Never did Abela imagine the power behind a kiss—seductive, enchanting, shattering, and she craved more.


About the Author:

Award-winning Celtic paranormal romance author, Mary Morgan, resides in Northern California, with her own knight in shining armor. However, during her travels to Scotland, England, and Ireland, she left a part of her soul in one of these countries and vows to return.
Mary's passion for books started at an early age along with an overactive imagination. She spent far too much time daydreaming and was told quite often to remove her head from the clouds. It wasn't until the closure of Borders Books where Mary worked that she found her true calling--writing romance. Now, the worlds she created in her mind are coming to life within her stories.
If you enjoy history, tortured heroes, and a wee bit of magic, then time-travel within the pages of her books.
WEBSITE:  http://www.marymorganauthor.com
BLOG:  http://www.marymorganauthor.com/blog
TWITTER:  http://twitter.com/m_morganauthor
FACEBOOK AUTHOR PAGE: https://www.facebook.com/MaryMorganAuthor/
FACEBOOK:  http://www.facebook.com/mary.morgan.564
GOODREADS:  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8271002.Mary_Morgan
AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE:  http://www.amazon.com/Mary-Morgan/e/B00KPE3NWI/
PINTEREST:  www.pinterest.com/marymorgan50/
INSTAGRAM: https://www.instagram.com/marymorgan2/
BOOKBUB: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/mary-morgan

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The Pain Eater by Courtney Diles

The Pain Eater by Courtney Diles and Its Paranormal PlaylistHi there, I'm author Courtney Diles and in a certain way, I’m over The Pain Eater. No, I’m serious—it filled my life for a long time, and I was ready when it was time to move on and work on other projects. Not to mention, once a book is published, it’s almost like a loss because it no longer belongs to the author—it belongs to the readers. The readers’ interpretations of the words become what matter. I was ready for that to happen. But I’m not over my playlist for it. I miss it!

It contains 185 songs, so I won’t go through all of them, but here are the highlights:·         First of the Year (Equinox) by SkrillexThis music video contains a monster that looks a lot like a pain eater, and the dark tone suits the beginning of the book, which has a horror vibe.·         Voices In My Head by NerdOutRoxie has voices in her head. This song describes an attitude toward voices that I wanted to get Roxie to adopt by the end of the book. Whether I succeeded in that is debatable. ·          I Want to Hold Your Hand from GleeThis clip helped me write certain scenes. Commenting further would be a spoiler.·         Dead Girl Walking (Reprise) from Heathers the Musical The blurb makes it clear that this book involves campus violence, so that’s not too much of a spoiler.·          UNRAVEL (FULL version - Tokyo Ghoul OP) - English opening cover by Jonathan YoungA lot of these lyrics are relevant, but the words that pierced my heart while I was writing were “Don’t come searching when I go missing.” When I originally wrote The Pain Eater, the love interest left at the end. I also wrote the book unsure of what genre it would be. When I finished and began researching, I realized that for it to be considered urban fantasy, I’d have to add at least 20,000 words. If it were paranormal romance, all it would need would be a happier ending. So I made my choice, and I honestly like how it turned out.·         Beauty and the Beast (Minor Key Version) by Chase Holfelder, KHS Cover I won’t reveal which elements of Beauty and the Beast I adapted to this story, but it definitely had an influence.·          The Monster by Rhianna and Eminem The first two lines say it all: “I’m friends with the monster that’s under my bed, get along with the voices inside of my head.”·          Control by Halsey“Shadows and monsters.” The pain eater starts out as a shadowy monster. “Who is in control?” Roxie or her voices? “Villains that live in my head.” One of her voices, Cruel, tries to make her kill herself. “I’ll never die when I’m dead.” Explaining why this one is relevant would be a spoiler. ·         Atlas by ColdplayThis song does a good job of describing the pain eater’s feelings for Roxie…and her eventual feelings for him. I can’t say more without spoiling things… Gah!·         Every Time We Touch by Cascada (Jonathan Young cover)This honestly is a song I listened to while writing the book, but I’m adding it to this list because I realized I’d filled it with sad/creepy songs. Sorry about that. 

The Pain Eater
The Divine Benefactors
Book Four
Courtney Diles



Genre: Paranormal romance
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Date of Publication: November 28, 2018
ISBN: 978-1-5092-2270-4 PaperbackISBN: 978-1-5092-2271-1 Digital
Number of pages: 238Word Count: 55096
Cover Artist: Debbie Taylor
Tagline: A beast consumed with pain could be her greatest pleasure.
Book Description:
Roxie Maeda is a college senior who hears voices in her head. When she first sees the demonic creature haunting her crush, she blows it off as a hallucination, but then it shows up in her Psych class, visible to everyone.
Its appearance triggers a police search of the campus, which reveals a bag of guns right outside the classroom. Someone was planning to shoot up the school. Over time, the creature discloses that he is a pain eater—a cursed, undead human who eats pain demons that arise from injuries, taking the pain into himself.
His selflessness sways her, and she befriends him only to fall in love. Together, they resolve to break his curse and save Prometheus University from its unknown attacker.
Amazon     BN
Excerpt:
Without closing my eyes, I slowly wrapped my mind around what the guy in black was. Monster. Supernatural. Something that wasn’t supposed to exist. But what exactly was he? Could he be a ghost? He could walk through walls. He could disappear. What kind of ghost dresses like some kind of assassin and gets his jollies from causing campus lockdowns? It didn’t fit. Plus, he was flesh and bone when I hit him with the knife. I thought about banshees, but banshees were female, weren’t they?
 I thought about Japanese shinigami, escorts to the underworld—but no one had died.
About the Author:
Courtney has an English degree with a Writing Concentration from the University of South Carolina. She lives in Indiana with her Marine husband, two singing huskies, and three purring kitties. She blogs about her own experiences with mental illness.
Newsletter signup: https://www.courtneydiles.com/members 
Website: www.courtneydiles.com     
Twitter: https://twitter.com/CourtneyDiles  
Facebook: www.facebook.com/CourtneyDiles
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/9314261-courtney
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/cdiles0616/

Magic In The Mountains by Donna Kunkel

Holiday Guest Blog SHOPPING DOWNTOWN
The first week of our school’s Christmas break my dad would take a day off and our family of four would go to downtown Cincinnati, Ohio. The cold wind would gust and blow through the canyons created by the towering skyscrapers. When we’d round a corner the frigid wind would smack us in the face and push our kid sized bodies back. Unfortunately it rarely snowed. I only remember once having a few flakes blowing around as we scurried from building to building. We’d shop for a few items that you couldn’t find in our small town.
There was one department store famous for its window displays. These windows were filled with animated, magical, tiny elves hard at work making toys or decorating trees. We would visit every window and watch spellbound. Then we’d go to the forest wonderland to see a reindeer and visit Santa.
For lunch we’d go to the best Jewish deli in the city for corned beef sandwiches. The booths were warm and cozy. No one ever had to wait long to place an order or get your food. The waitresses bustled around the busy lunch time crowd making sure everyone was taken care of, trying to keep the waiting line from getting too long.


After lunch, we’d head back to the department stores. In our town, a store would take up a slot in the downtown building and have at most only an escalator to a basement level. In Cincinnati a store would occupy the entire city block and extend up for at least six floors. There wasn’t anything more exciting than getting to ride an elevator or stopping on the mezzanine level. We rarely got the chance to shop downtown so when we did it was a major event. I still smile as I recall these happy family outings and the time we spent all together.


Magic In The MountainsAspen Glen SeriesBook OneDonna Kunkel
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Date of Publication: November 28, 2018
ISBN: 978-1-5092-2311-4ASIN: B07J485BXC
Number of pages: 356Word Count: 90658
Cover Artist: Kristian Norris
Tagline: She tries to deny her magic, but fate has other plans.
Book Description:
Sick and tired of magical men and mayhem, Alex a city witch, pledges to give magic a rest. Her vow is put to the test when she finds herself snowbound with a hunky mortal. She attempts life without magic even when faced with a demonic hen, a cow that acts like a dog, and a dog that acts human. But when all magic breaks loose and a unicorn shows up, it's the last straw. How will she keep her magic a secret?
Steve, a reclusive prospector, lives alone in a remote Colorado valley because he doesn't trust himself around humans, especially those of the female persuasion. Once he meets the feisty Alex, breaking self-imposed rules is just the beginning. But how can he keep her safe from what lives inside him?
Their connection grows, but the secrets they hide keep them from confessing their feelings. Will they be able to accept and control who and what they are in time to give their love a chance?
Amazon     Amazon UK      Amazon AU       Amazon CA
Ibooks        BN        The Wild Rose Press

This was unbelievable. “My boss isn’t going to understand. This is just like my dog ate my homework. I’m stuck in the snow—for a month or more.” Her mind raced through the possible ways of traveling. “What about a snowmobile?”“Unfortunately, the road you came in on is the only way in or out. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that an avalanche blocked the valley pass last night. If so, it’ll take a while before anyone can get through.” He watched her. “Why did you drive out this way? Why didn’t you stop at the hotel next to the highway?”“What hotel?”“If you had just driven under the highway overpass, you’d have been there. Why didn’t you follow the detour sign?”“Oh great. That’s—just—great! The stupid detour sign blows away so now I’m stuck in the middle of nothing. I could have been tucked away in a nice comfortable hotel—with electricity and phones. But no—I’m stuck in no-man’s land. I risked life and limb trudging through the snow for what?” She sighed. “Now what?”
About the Author:
Donna Kunkel is a paranormal romance author. Within the pages of her tales you can visit with witches, wizards, shape-shifters, and other fantasy creatures. Figurines of the magic realm surround her computer for inspiration. She lives at the edge of the Colorado mountains with her husband of many years and her two dogs. When not writing, you can find her browsing the fabric shops for her next quilt, stitching Japanese embroidery, or curled up with a good book. She enjoys spending time in the mountains, at Lake Tahoe, or relaxing on a beach in Hawaii.
https://Facebook.com/DonnaKunkelAuthor
https://www.Aspenglenseries.wordpress.com
https://www.pinterest.com/dkunkel2477/
https://twitter.com/DonnaKunkel3


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Almond Moon Cookies: A Timeout from the Holiday Rush

Almond Moon Cookies: A Timeout from the Holiday Rush
The holiday season is packed with things to do and places to go. It’s easy to become overwhelmed if you don’t take time to relax and rejuvenate. One of the best ways to do this is to reserve a quite evening or even just an hour for yourself. Shut off social media and your phone, light a candle and enjoy a cup of tea while you listen to music or read a book. I suggest a tea with a gentle aroma and flavor like jasmine tea paired with a buttery-sweet cookie like almond moons. Almond moons are named after their crescent shape that honors the new moon. The new moon is a time for quiet reflection and new beginnings. It’s all about for planning how to move forward.
Almond Moons
(makes approximately 3 dozen cookies)
1 cup softened butter8 ounces softened cream cheese2 cups granulated sugar1 egg1 teaspoon vanilla extract¼ teaspoon almond extract3-1/2 cups flour1 teaspoon baking powder½ cup slivered almondsChocolate frosting
In large bowl cream butter and softened cream cheese together until light and fluffy.  Add sugar, egg, vanilla, and almond extract. Beat until well blended.
In separate bowl combine flour and baking powder. Gradually add flour mixture to creamed mixture, beating after each addition until thoroughly blended into soft dough.
Cover bowl and refrigerate for at least one hour. Dough can be chilled overnight.
Scoop out tablespoons of dough onto lightly floured surface and form into small 2 inch logs. Bend logs into crescent moon shape and place on ungreased cookie sheet. When shaping moons remember that dough will rise and expand slightly as it cooks.
Bake at 350 degrees for 10-12 minutes or until bottom is golden brown. Some golden brown will show around edges of cookies.
Cool cookies, then drizzle with your favorite chocolate glaze or spread chocolate frosting along inner edge of cookie to accent moon shape. Press slivered almonds into soft glaze or frosting.
These cookies keep well in the freezer, so be sure to stash a few away for that much needed holiday timeout.

His Dark MagicNorthern Circle CovenBook OnePat Esden
Genre: Contemporary fantasy 
Publisher: Lyrical Press
Date of Publication: December 11, 2018
ISBN: 9781516106301ASIN:  B0796C83RM
Number of pages: 325Word Count: 90k
Cover Artist: Kensington Books
Tagline: Its power is legendary. It can fulfill every impossible magical desire. But for one young witch seeking redemption, the Northern Circle coven will challenge her skills—and her heart—beyond measure.
Book Description:
Its power is legendary. It can fulfill every impossible magical desire. But for one young witch seeking redemption, the Northern Circle coven will challenge her skills—and her heart—beyond measure.
One tragic impulsive mistake made Chloe Winslow an outcast to her influential magic family. As a medical student, she wants to combine science with sorcery to heal those she hurt and right her wrongs. But brilliant, charismatic Devlin Marsh re-routes her plans with a once-in-eternity offer: membership in the exclusive Northern Circle, a mysterious Vermont coven known for pushing the limits.
Enthralled by Devlin and their mesmerizing mutual attraction, Chloe makes a dangerous sacrifice to help the Circle’s high priestess awaken Merlin himself—and learn his timeless cures. But a foreshadowing soon causes Chloe to doubt the Circle's real motives, as well as Devlin’s . . .
Now Merlin's demonic shade is loose in the human world, while Chloe and Devlin's uneasy alliance will pit them against ancient enemies, malevolent illusions, and shattering betrayal. And with the fate of two realms in the balance, Chloe must risk her untried power against a force she can't defeat—and a passion that could destroy her. 

Amazon      BN      iTunes      Kobo      Google Play




Chapter 1 Earth. Air. Fire. Water. —Inscribed into a white candle
Chloe padded barefoot across her apartment to the altar on her windowsill. She struck a match and lit a candle. Its light shimmered over a row of crystals and washed into the darkness beyond the open window. “Spirits of air,” she intoned, holding out her hands. “Guardians of thought and intent, grant me your presence today. Spirits of fire, guardians of will and passion...” A gust of wind sent autumn leaves whirling through the darkness and rustling against the window’s screen. She stopped chanting and cupped her hands around the candle, shielding it from the breeze. She shivered. There was a sense of foreboding in the air, a whisper and a chill that a witch like her could not ignore. Someone else with powers was close by. And they were thinking about her—at least that’s what her intuition murmured. She glanced out the window. There was no one in the tiny parking lot, one story below. The windows in the house next door stood dark and silent. She caught a whiff of bacon and hash browns, but the smell was faint and not unexpected. It was almost five-thirty, breakfast time for the couple upstairs. Quiet as could be, she tiptoed past her bed and a stack of textbooks to the studio apartment’s front door. She opened it a crack and glanced out. The hall light was on, its brightness fanning across the hallway between her and the main staircase. But the doors to the other two apartments on her floor were shut, everything dead silent. Remembering her candle, Chloe swiveled back. “Out,” she whispered, flicking her fingers to send a burst of energy at its flame. The flame obeyed, only a thread of its rosemary-scented smoke trailing behind her as she opened the door all the way and crept down the hallway, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling. When she reached the top of the staircase, everything was still quiet. But after a moment, a faint thump-thump echoed up from the foyer below. Thump-bang. Bang. Chloe froze, her breath knotting in the back of her throat. It was as if someone had leaned into the front door, hard shouldering it to see if it would give way.
She waited, listening for the noise to happen again. One long second passed, then another. She gritted her teeth and took a cautious step downward. Her ear caught the swish and clink of something being slid through the mail slot, followed by a hum of magic. Not daring to breathe, Chloe snuck down the stairs far enough that she could see the foyer and the front entrance. A narrow envelope lay just inside the door, as white as moonlight against the worn floorboards. She glanced at the window set into the front door. No one was looking in or lurking in the shadows on the porch, so she sprinted down the rest of the stairs and snatched the envelope. Even before she read who it was for, her intuition screamed that it was addressed to her: Chloe Winslow The ink was black. The handwriting neat and controlled. Perfectly centered. But it wasn’t an envelope. It was handmade, paper folded and held shut by a disk of gold sealing wax stamped with an N surrounded by a circle. She nudged the seal with her index finger. Energy crackled off of it, snaking up her arm. She gasped. Powerful magic. She was certain of it, though if any of the other tenants had found the letter and touched the seal, they wouldn’t have felt a thing. Adrenaline pumped into her veins. A month ago, she’d moved out of her parents’ house in Connecticut to take prerequisite courses at the University of Vermont before applying for medical school. In all those weeks, she hadn’t encountered any other true witches or magic. No way in hell was she going to let someone drop off a thing like this and then escape before she could meet them. She shoved the letter into the waistband of her yoga pants, unlocked the front door, and charged out onto the porch. Her gaze flashed to the left. Parked cars lined the dark street. But no one was getting into or out of any of them. The swish of someone striding through fallen leaves came from the opposite direction. She wheeled and caught a glimpse of him. Definitely a guy, striding down the sidewalk through a glimmer of streetlight. Broad shoulders filled out his dark quilted jacket. Khaki chinos. Lean. Athletic. Confident. Chloe’s long legs took the porch stairs in a single leap. She sprinted down the sidewalk after him, leaves scattering beneath her bare feet. The guy jogged between two parked cars and crossed the street. “Wait!” she shouted.He slowed and glanced back. That was all the time Chloe needed. She willed her legs to go faster and in a dozen strides caught up to him and snagged his sleeve. His eyes met hers. He looked to be maybe twenty-four or -five. His dark- brown hair curled at the nape of his neck. Deep, brown eyes. Muscular. Classy. Gorgeous. His magic purred in the air around him. She gulped a breath and toughened her voice. “You owe me an explanation.” His gaze traveled over her slowly, from her bobbed honey-blond hair, past her makeup-free face and stretched out T-shirt, down to her stormy- blue painted toenails, then back up to her eyes. Dimples formed as his lips twitched into a roguish smirk. “Not afraid of confrontation, are you?” he said. His voice was warm and deep, liquid danger spiked with an undercurrent of confident innuendo. It sent an excited shiver up her arms. Still she glared at him. “First of all, I suspect you dropped off that letter at this time of morning because you knew I’d be awake and sense you. That means you’ve been spying on me.” “Is that so?” He shifted closer, his magic sweeping her skin. Her legs weakened. Desire thrummed low in her belly. Dear Goddess, this hadn’t been one of her brighter moves. Maybe she could snuff out a candle with a flick of her fingers, but with seemingly no effort his magic had aroused every inch of her. Clearly, he was extraordinarily gifted—and not just with working spells. She let go of his sleeve, retreated a step, and found herself trapped against a cedar hedge. He cocked his head. “Why don’t you open the letter if you’re so curious?” Her fingers obeyed, sliding it from her waistband— She stopped. What the heck was she doing? She’d felt the magic crackle off the seal. If she broke it, there was no telling what kind of spell might be activated. Chloe pulled herself up to her full height and looked him square in the eyes, which wasn’t that hard to do. He was probably five-foot-ten, but she was only a couple of inches shorter even in bare feet. “I’ve got a better idea. How about if you tell me what it says?” He frowned as if the idea didn’t appeal to him, then surprisingly he stepped back and shrugged. “All right, if you insist. It’s an invitation from the Northern Circle coven. Have you heard of us?” “Umm—no.” Her pulse quickened, renewed wariness pumping into her blood. Her parents had mentioned a few older hereditary witches who lived in this area, but never this group. “It’s to a party. A meet and greet. A chance to see if you might be interested in joining us and if we think you’re a good fit.” He rubbed a hand down the sleeve of his jacket as if deciding whether he should say more. Finally, he went on, “We’re dedicated to finding ways to access ancient knowledge. Through out-of-body travel, retrocognition...” He studied her face carefully, as if watching for her reaction. She pressed her lips together, refusing to give him one—though what he’d said totally enticed her. Amusement twinkled in his eyes for a second, then he continued. “We believe there are cures to modern diseases and conditions that have been lost to time. The wisdom and magic of Imhotep, Hippocrates, even Merlin.” He smiled, slyly. “You are interested in medicine, right?” Her wariness evaporated and that thrum jumped to life again deep inside her. But this time it had nothing to do with sex. Magic. Medicine. Secrets lost to time. None of the classes she was taking or anything she’d come across at the university were even remotely as exciting as this. She folded her arms across her chest. “Of course you’d know I’m interested in that. You’ve been keeping tabs on me.” “I—we haven’t been spying on you. You don’t always use protection spells. We picked up on your energy. That’s one of the ways we find new potential members.” He stopped, his jaw tensing as if he were holding something back. She pinned him with a steady look. “And?” He grimaced. “All right, we have contacts in administration. We may have checked your college records as well: graduated from a community college, taking additional prerequisites before applying for medical school. Top-ten test scores. Not a great apartment. But somehow you scored it last minute.” Now he sounded like her father, using his connections to screen potential employees. She thrust the letter out. “If this is all so innocent, then why don’t you open it? Or does the seal bother you?” He laughed, tugged the letter from her fingers, and broke the sealing wax. The welcoming scent of sage and lavender perfumed the air, and a trail of green firefly-like sparks twinkled upward, swirling around before vanishing off toward the brightening eastern horizon. “Better now?” he said, handing the open letter back to her. She skimmed it, nibbling her bottom lip. Even in the dim street-light, she could see he’d told the truth. It was an engraved invitation signed: Athena Marsh, high priestess, Northern Circle. “You can take a city bus—or text Athena if you want a ride. She’ll probably ask me to pick you up, but she’s the one doing the organizing. This is her pet project,” he continued. “You won’t be the only newbie. No one will force you into anything.” His voice settled sugar-sweet in her ear. Medicine. Magic. A chance to gain the knowledge from ancient physicians, scholars, and sorcerers. Perhaps even pick the wizard Merlin’s brain. How could she say no?


About the Author:
PAT ESDEN is an antique-dealing florist by trade. She’s also a member of Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, Romance Writers of America, and the League of Vermont Writers. Her short stories have appeared in a number of publications, including Orson Scott Card’s Intergalactic Medicine Show, the Mythopoeic Society’s Mythic Circle literary magazine, and George H. Scither’s anthology Cat Tales.
Her new adult paranormal novel, A HOLD ON ME (book #1 in the Dark Heart series) is available from Kensington Books. BEYOND YOUR TOUCH (book #2 Dark Heart series) will be released August 30th.
Website: http://patesden.com
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A Ghost for Christmas Flash Fiction by Anne Roebuck

A Ghost for Christmas
          Snow, like a pall of white crepe, smothered the trees and bushes.  Belinda looked out of her window and sighed.  It was Christmas eve again.  In the distance, she heard carolers singing.  “God rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay.”            One year ago, her husband Chester lay dying, a fever wracking his withered frame.  He had been twenty years her senior and had been sickly for nearly all of their marriage.  As he slipped away, she had vowed she would never forget him.  And she hadn't.          But a year had gone by.  Her small millinery business had prospered.  She was an independent woman now, no longer the innocent girl she had been when she had married Chester.            And there was Daniel.          She really shouldn't be thinking of Daniel on the anniversary of Chester's death.  But Daniel had literally waltzed into her life last year at a New Year’s Eve ball.  The ball was held in an old warehouse that someone had desperately tried to decorate so that it didn't look like what it was.  She wasn't particularly a good dancer.  But in Daniel's arms, she had transformed into a graceful nymph, whirling around and around as the tiny orchestra played Strauss's Gold and Silver waltz.  She didn't care if they played out of tune or if the decorations were tattered and tawdry or the punch was watery and the cake stale.            All she saw was Daniel.          He was in his mid-thirties and handsome in a boyish way with twinkling eyes and a quirky smile.  But he had recently come back from the Spanish war, and there was an expression in his eyes, when he thought nobody was looking, that told her he had seen unspeakable tragedy and horror.  The first time she had seen it, it tugged so hard at her heartstrings that it nearly brought tears to her eyes.  It hadn't taken much else for her to fall desperately in love with him.          The year had whirled by like a Strauss waltz.  The seasons had changed, spring, summer and fall.   Now here it was winter again.  How she had changed in a year.  Then, a month ago, Daniel had asked her to marry him.   She had said yes before she even thought about it.          But there was still Chester.          She gazed out at the snow, her eyes filling with tears.  "I'm sorry, Chester," she said out loud.  "I tried to be a good wife to you, but Daniel ... "            Her throat tightened, and she couldn’t finish her sentence.  How could she explain to Chester what Daniel meant to her?  Chester hadn't been a bad husband.  He had treated her kindly and supported her in comfort.  But his constant illness meant that she had been more of a nurse than a wife.  It hadn't been his fault, but still ...          Chester hadn't been her true love, her twin flame, her soul mate.  Daniel was.          She turned away from the window and sat down on her bed, her heart heavy with … what?  Sadness?  Grief?  Guilt?  She wasn't sure.  Somehow, she had to leave the past behind and stop holding any more Christmas Eve vigils.  Would she still do it when she was married to Daniel and had a blazing Christmas tree, presents, pastries, mulled wine and possibly even children?          She shut her eyes.  “Chester,” she breathed.  “Forgive me.”          The clock on the nearby church steeple began to strike midnight.  A small gust of wind blew through the room, teasing the bed curtains.  The candle flame sputtered and went out, leaving the room in darkness.  Belinda froze in place, tendrils of terror crawling up her spine.  A light that wasn't from the candle glowed in the corner of the room.  A figure took form.  The figure of a man.          Chester.          He stood before her surrounded by a nimbus of light.  She knew deep within her that she was seeing his ghost, but he didn't look at all ghastly.  He looked young and strong as though his spirit had shed a frail and never-quite-right physical body and was now free.  She stopped being frightened and surprised herself by feeling happy for him.          He raised his hand and smiled.  “Thank you.”            It was only a whisper.  It could have been the breeze at the window.  but something inside Belinda knew it wasn't.  At last, she understood.  She had done him a service by tending him during his final illness.  But now he was free.  And so was she.          She smiled.  “You’re welcome.”          Then, he was gone.  She blinked.  The candle blazed again on the dresser.  The clock had ceased chiming.  Outside her window, she heard the voices of the carolers rising up from the street.  She rubbed her eyes.  Good Lord, what had just happened?   Had it even been real?            She frowned in puzzlement.  There was something on her dresser next to the candlestick, something that hadn't been there moments before.  She rose to her feet, walked slowly to the dresser and picked it up.            It was a white rose.          "We wish you a merry Christmas,” the voices sang.  “And a happy New year."



The Dear Departed
Anne Roebuck

Genre: Historical Paranormal


Publisher: Boroughs Publishing

Date of Publication:  February 2016
ISBN: 978-1-944262-14-3ASIN: B01BPFTJI2
Number of pages: 355Word Count: 102,748
Tagline: A young widow and a mysterious magician battle a psychic killer in Victorian era San Francisco.
Book Description:
Young widow Virginia Paley has no interest in attending the séances at The Society for Eternal Love, but the women of the society are dying mysteriously in their sleep, leaving their fortunes to Professor Arthur Chadwick, its charismatic medium. As her aunt might very well become the next victim, Virginia will do whatever she must to ensure that doesn’t happen. She will even join forces with the darkly mysterious Jonathan Bradshaw, a man who isn’t what he appears to be.
From the moment he spies her, Jonathan is smitten. But romance is impossible.
Mrs. Paley is a respectable woman, and he himself is outside of society, an orphan, an ex-thief and a true wizard, able to hypnotize with a word and even separate his spirit from his body. No, he must instead remain focused on his goal, avenging his mentor’s death. But, facing a foe with power over demonic forces and Virginia’s very life in the balance, love might indeed be the only salvation.
Amazon

ExcerptChapter 1San Francisco1897The gaslight on the wall burned low, leaving only the spectral glow of the astral lamps to illuminate the séance room. Virginia Paley felt her stomach knotting up in both fear and anticipation as the wind rattled the shutters, sounding just like someone—or something—was trying to get in. In the center of the circular oak table, a single red lamp glowed like an all-seeing eye.            Virginia shuddered. Why, oh why, had she allowed her aunt to talk her into this madness?            Six other people sat with her around the table‑—all women save for one lone man who occupied the chair on her left. She studied him for a moment out of the corner of her eye. Just her luck that the only man attending this absurd spectacle was not only handsome but was seated so close to her that she could hear him breathe. As though he sensed her watching him, he suddenly turned to her with a mysterious smile curling his full mouth.            His eyes met hers and Virginia caught her breath. A prickle of apprehension and excitement shot through her insides. The darkness shrouded his face, but his eyes reflected the ruby light within their azure depths, making him appear otherworldly—and disturbingly familiar. He looked like he had stepped out of a dream—her dream.            Was she gazing into the eyes of her secret fantasy lover?            No. She forced herself to turn away. Stop this right now. This was insane. The lover who haunted her midnight fantasies was not a real man. He was only a phantasm that appeared out of nowhere to invade the dreams of a lonely widow. Nothing more.            This man sitting next to her at the séance table was not her fantasy lover, she told herself firmly. She didn’t even know him. Her reaction to him was just one more ridiculous aspect of this silly séance. She abruptly released her hold on the man’s hand, grateful that the darkness prevented him from seeing the flush that burned her cheeks.            She simply mustn’t allow herself to be sucked into the insanity of this place.            Frowning in annoyance, she turned to her aunt sitting on her right. “Really, Aunt Marian.” She kept her voice low. “This whole business is getting absurd. Come. Let’s go home.”            “And miss a message from my beloved Henry?” Behind her pince nez, Marian’s blue eyes widened in alarm. She clutched the lace collar of her high-necked black gown with her gloved hand. “I wouldn’t dream of doing that.”            “Mrs. Salonius got a message from her late husband, too,” Virginia persisted. “And look what happened to her.”            “Now, now, dear.” Marian smiled and gave Virginia’s hand an affectionate pat. “It was just Rachel’s time to depart this life, that’s all. And isn’t it wonderful that she had her adored Hiram waiting for her in the Summerland of Spirit?”            Virginia shuddered at her aunt’s blissful expression. This wasn’t like Aunt Marian at all. And where on earth did the disturbingly vacant look in her eyes come from? Despite her aunt’s beatific smile, Virginia felt in the pit of her stomach that something was very, very wrong.            A man of about sixty years of age, dressed in a frock coat, snow-white waistcoat and white bow tie, strode into the room and took his place behind the enormous armchair at the table. Silver-haired and distinguished-looking, he carried himself with the aloof kindliness usually reserved for a college professor or a tent revivalist.            “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” He swept the room with his gaze. “I am Professor Arthur Chadwick. It gives me great pleasure to introduce two newcomers to our circle. This is Mr. Jonathan Bradshaw.” He indicated the man sitting beside Virginia, who nodded slightly in acknowledgement. “And Mrs. Virginia Paley. A warm welcome to you, both.”            Virginia started as Chadwick's ebony eyes met hers for an uncomfortably long moment. Virginia shivered with sudden dread. They were piercing eyes. Calculating eyes. Cold eyes.            Eyes that threatened to penetrate the secret hidden in her soul—a secret she had no intention of revealing to a living soul. Or any other kind of soul for that matter.            Chadwick finally took his penetrating gaze elsewhere, much to Virginia’s relief. “In tonight’s demonstration, you will experience many manifestations of spirit power. The purpose is to convince even the most skeptical person that spirits do, indeed, exist beyond this earthy plane.” He paused for emphasis. “Which means that the spirits of our departed loved ones exist as well and are eager to reveal themselves to us, if we will but heed them.”            He allowed the murmurs and whispers of approval to buzz around the table. Of the four other women in the room, Virginia was the only one not shrouded head to toe in black taffeta.            “You see, this is why I continue to come here,” Marian whispered in Virginia’s ear. “It comforts me so much to know that my beloved Henry awaits me on the Other Side. And when you receive a message from your dear George, you will be comforted, too.”            Virginia’s stomach dropped to her toes. In spite of all her misgivings about the Society for Eternal Love, Virginia had agreed to attend one of Chadwick’s séances. It was, after all, only fair that she see one for herself before passing judgment on them.            She was sincerely glad that her aunt had found comfort for her grief in the notion of love after death. However, this business of conjuring spooks was going much too far. And the last thing Virginia wanted was for Chadwick to conjure up her own late husband. Any message from him wasn’t likely to be particularly comforting.            As far as Virginia was concerned, it was better to let the dead—especially George—rest in peace.            “Let us all join hands.” Chadwick’s voice intruded into Virginia’s reverie. “And rest the toes of our shoes against the shoes of those sitting beside us. This way, you will each reassure yourselves that everyone, including myself, is seated with hands and feet fully accounted for. Thus, you will see that no living person in this room is producing the phenomena that we shall soon experience.”            Aunt Marian took Virginia’s hand, gave it an encouraging squeeze, and nestled her high-buttoned shoe next to Virginia’s slipper. Virginia hesitated for a moment, then nestled the toe of her other slipper against the instep of Mr. Bradshaw’s boot.            He smiled again and offered her his gloved hand with a flourish. Gingerly, she laid her own hand into the center of his palm. His strong fingers enclosed hers with a gentle firmness that she could feel even through the fine white cotton of his glove. The tingle in her stomach turned into an unexpected throb of desire. Even if he was a real man and not a fantasy, he was certainly having an effect on her. What was he doing here? And why was she so stirred by him?            “Don’t be afraid, Mrs. Paley.” His voice, a musical baritone, caressed her ears.            “I’m not afraid,” she whispered.            “Good. And don’t be afraid of the spirits, either.” He winked at her.            She glanced away in annoyance. It was obvious that he had noticed her loss of composure. Now, she was even more nervous.            “Now, again for the sake of our new members, allow me to remind all of you not to break the circle for any reason during the séance.” Chadwick glanced about the table to make sure his instructions were being followed. “A great deal of psychic force is built up when we join together to concentrate upon a common goal. This force enables me to bring through our loved ones in spirit. Breaking the circle of hands short circuits this force and ends our communication with them. I trust we are all clear on this point.”            Everyone around the table nodded in solemn agreement. After another minute or two of shuffling feet, rustling petticoats and wooden chair legs squeaking on the hardwood floor, expectant silence descended upon the room. Virginia sat rigid in her chair.            “Now, take a deep breath and let all the affairs of the mundane world fall away,”—a collective sigh rose from the group at Chadwick’s words. The wind moaned like a soul in torment against the shutters—“while we attune our minds and our hearts to a higher plane of being. Soon, we will be able to welcome our spirit friends as they come through and speak to us.”            Chadwick paused for a moment, then shattered the silence with a loud sneeze. All the women around the table jumped in unison.            “Forgive me,” he murmured. “A slight cold…”            “Maybe we should postpone the séance.” One of the women leaned across the table with concern in her eyes. “If you are ill.”            Chadwick waved the suggestion away. “No need, my dear Mrs. Henderson. I am well enough. Let us continue. Please be so kind as to extinguish the gaslight.”            Mrs. Henderson, a thin, reedy woman in her late fifties, rose to her feet and turned the handle on the gaslight, plunging the room into total darkness. Only the tiny flame in the blood-colored lamp continued to flicker, making the lamp throb like a beating heart.            Chadwick waited patiently until Mrs. Henderson found her chair once more. “Now, if we are ready…” His voice trailed off into another loud sneeze. “Again, forgive me,” he said after a moment. “Please take my hands once more and let us begin.”            He paused again, letting silence engulf the room once more. Virginia held her breath.            “Come, ye spirits,” Chadwick intoned in a sing-song tone. “Blessed denizens of the Summerland, that happy place of peace and contentment. We ask you to reveal yourselves to us. Come and speak…speak to your loved ones here assembled. Comfort them, give them hope, lend them solace from their grief and loneliness.”            A bell rang somewhere in the room. Virginia quickly turned her head to try to determine from which direction the sound came, but it seemed to come from all corners of the room at once. She shuddered at the sudden tingling in her spine. It was only a trick, she told herself sternly. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.            “Ah, the veil between this world and the spirit realms is lifting,” Chadwick said. “One by one, our spirit friends announce their presence to us.”            Virginia gasped. The table in front of her, a piece of solid oak so heavy that she would have thought it almost immovable, rocked and thumped beneath her hands, almost as if it had come to life. Several sharp raps echoed hollowly from somewhere beneath its surface making a pattern that sounded almost like the dit-dah-dahs of Morse code.            Finally, it rose into the air so high that Virginia strained to keep her hands on its surface, as though it were up to her to keep the wayward piece of furniture from escaping altogether.            “Our spirit friends cavort and play as they did in life.” Chadwick chuckled. “They wish us to be very sure that they are here. Look!”            Virginia looked up at the ceiling. There, in the darkness, danced several little bright points of light, darting first this way and now that, now, flying around over her head, now floating down towards her like little wisps of fluff blown about by some spirit breeze. Then, they would vanish abruptly, only to reappear again just as suddenly somewhere else entirely.            Virginia's eyes widened as a human hand, glowing pasty white in the darkness of the room appeared just above her head. Other gasps echoed in the room as the ghostly hand, opening, closing and wiggling its fingers, fluttered about the room.            Chadwick moaned suddenly, his deep base voice echoing eerily off the walls. A small brass trumpet sitting on the table began to quiver, rattling a staccato pattern on the tabletop. It rose slowly into the air, all by itself, until it was high over Virginia's head. As she stared up at it, it turned about several times, then halted in mid air.            “It is I, Gentle Fawn.” A small voice floated from the mouth of the trumpet. “I bring you greetings from one of your company who has recently crossed over into the spirit world.”            “Gentle Fawn is Arthur’s spirit guide,” Aunt Marian whispered. “You remember that I told you about her?”            Virginia nodded curtly. Marian had told her all about Chadwick’s various spirit “guides.” But hearing the eerie voice issuing from the trumpet was another thing altogether.            “Rachel gives everyone her love,” the voice continued. “She wants everyone to know how happy she is. Hiram is with her and they’re holding hands. It’s so sweet to see them together again at last.”            The trumpet whirled around again, then pointed to Marian. “I have a message for Marian from her beloved Henry.”            Marian sighed ecstatically, her ample bosom lifting up from her whalebone corset, then falling once more. The voice dropped to a masculine tone. “Marian?”            “Oh yes, Henry. Yes, I’m here.”            “Keep up with your good work, my dearest Marian. You will be given an opportunity to do even more to comfort the bereaved. Watch for that opportunity.”            “I will,” Marian said with a catch in her voice. “Thank you, Henry.”            The trumpet carefully selected its next subject. “This is a message for Ethel.”            “Oh, yes.” Mrs. Henderson scooted forward in her chair, her eyes gleaming in the red light. “Yes, I’m right here.”            “Ethel?” The voice that emerged from the trumpet was a light tenor this time. “Dear Ethel, it is almost time. I am waiting for you, my love. Waiting…yearning…aching for you. Oh, my darling, how I long for you. I cannot wait much longer to hold you, kiss you, love you.”            “Tomorrow.” Ethel’s voice trembled with emotion. “It will be done tomorrow. I promise, Oswald dearest. Then, I will be ready.”            Ethel sat back in her seat and closed her eyes, a look of utter ecstasy on her face. Virginia watched her with growing apprehension. Ethel Henderson had seemed like such a sensible woman when Virginia had spoken with her in the foyer before this sideshow began. Now, she looked as though she had abandoned her sensibilities completely, just like Aunt Marian had.            What on earth was happening to these women?            Startled out of her reverie, Virginia jumped as the trumpet swung around again and halted directly in front of her. “There is a man here,” Gentle Fawn’s voice announced. “He is a portly man, middle-aged with thinning hair. He calls for Virginia. Is she here?”            Virginia stiffened. No! She frowned in sudden anger. Don’t you dare!            Aunt Marian certainly must have informed Chadwick of Virginia’s own widowed status. Now, she was the newest pigeon in the flock.            “I'm here,” she muttered through clenched teeth.            “It is difficult.” The voice lowered to a throaty bass. “So difficult to come through. I have so much to say to you. But I cannot. Not now.”            Virginia’s heart began to hammer painfully. The voice couldn’t be George’s. It was impossible, wasn’t it? If only she could be sure. It had been barely a year since he died. Surely, she had not forgotten the sound of his voice already.            No, Virginia told herself sternly for the third time. This was not real. It was only a confidence trick Chadwick designed to try to dupe her just as he had duped her aunt.            Still, Virginia let her breath out in a heavy sigh of relief as the trumpet turned again—this time to the man sitting beside her with his hand cradling hers with such firm strength.            “Jonathan?” A woman’s voice emerged, sounding on the verge of tears. “Oh, Jonathan, where are you? I can’t see you. I don’t know where I am. I’m so frightened.”            She heard Jonathan Bradshaw suck in his breath in a startled gasp. His gloved hand suddenly squeezed hers.            “Susan?” He called out in a voice that quavered with emotion. “Oh my love, is that really you?”            Virginia turned to him in alarm. He sat still in his chair, his lips pressed tightly together with a look of anguish on his expressive features. He was obviously maintaining his composure with a considerable effort, but Virginia could see the glint of tears at the corners of his eyes. Virginia’s heart went out to him. How disgraceful that Chadwick, with his bogus messages, should take such advantage of this man’s obviously deep and heartfelt grief.            Perhaps after the silly séance was over, she could find some place away from the babbling crowd of women and try to comfort him. Maybe, press his cheek against her breast, stroke his hair, kiss his furrowed brow. Show him in other ways that love was not dead.            Acutely embarrassed at the direction her wayward thoughts were taking her, she turned her gaze back to the ruby lamp. For the second time that evening, she was grateful for the dim light which prevented anyone seeing the flame creeping up into her cheeks.            “You see?” The voice of Gentle Fawn returned. “Souls on both sides of the Veil must learn to accept the reality of love which transcends the change you call death. If only we could tell Susan that her beloved Jonathan is here waiting to talk to her, it would comfort her so much. But she doesn’t hear us. We will have to wait until she is ready.”            Chadwick caught his breath and sneezed a third and final time. “Perhaps we ought to end this séance for now,” he said. “My dear Mrs. Henderson, would you please turn up the light?”            Ethel shoved her chair back with a squeak and rose to her feet. She turned up the gaslight on the nearest wall, then went to the light on the far wall. As Virginia’s eyes adjusted to the brightness, she could clearly see Chadwick seated at the table with both of his hands still firmly held by the women on either side of him.            “I hope this modest demonstration has served to convince even the most doubting mind.” He disengaged his hands from the women’s grip and rose to his feet. “I thank you most sincerely for your attention and cooperation.”            Virginia pushed back her chair and rose to her feet as well. All the women, Aunt Marian included, swarmed around Chadwick like bees on a sunflower. Virginia hung back, not wanting to be drawn into the midst of the adoring throng.            The door opened and a maid came in rolling a cart with a coffee urn, sugar, cream and a stack of china cups. She parked the cart by the far wall and tiptoed back out of the room. Virginia edged backwards towards the cart, grateful for an excuse to leave the laughing group before she said something that would embarrass her aunt.            She noticed that Jonathan Bradshaw already held a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. She took the opportunity to discreetly study him in more detail while he stirred sugar into his cup.            He was certainly more good-looking than a mortal man had any right to be. Tall and lithe like an athlete, his broad shoulders narrowed to a trim waist and slim hips, accentuated by a dove gray waistcoat and tapered silk trousers.            Black hair, longer than the current fashion, curled well past his collar and swept back from his brow in an ebony wave. It gave him a look reminiscent of some bygone romantic era even though his dinner jacket and black bow tie were cut in the latest style.            Not only did she find him attractive, Virginia had also been impressed with how his finely sculpted features and generous mouth had mirrored such strong emotion during the séance. It showed him to be a man capable of deep and tender feelings.            She sighed. What a shame for any woman to have to die and leave such a husband behind.            Professor Chadwick, with Aunt Marian and Mrs. Henderson trailing along in his wake, detached himself from the group and approached them. Virginia shrank back against the wall at their approach, but it soon became clear she was not their quarry.            “Ah, there you are, Mr. Bradshaw,” Chadwick spoke up over the babble of female voices. The target of his inquiry glanced up sharply. “I trust our little demonstration has succeeded and you are satisfied of the veracity of our claims.”            “Absolutely.” Jonathan gave him a wan smile. “I must admit that I was skeptical when I first arrived. It all seemed so, shall we say, theatrical. But now…” He paused for a moment, his sensitive mouth tightening. “I find that there can be no other explanation for what I experienced. None, whatever. It was truly extraordinary.” His voice hoarsened. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”            Chadwick acknowledged Jonathan’s expression of gratitude with a gracious nod. Satisfied that he had found another true believer, he turned and rejoined his group of disciples.            “There, you see, dear?” Marian turned to Virginia with a triumphant look. “Mr. Bradshaw came here with an open mind about the existence of the spirits, and now he believes. Why on earth, can you not believe as well?”            “Aunt Marian, please.” Virginia twisted the strand of pearls around her neck in annoyance and embarrassment. The last thing she wanted was to argue with her aunt here in Chadwick’s parlor, especially in front of this handsome man. She didn’t want to sound like a shrew. “Mr. Bradshaw can hardly be interested in my opinion of these proceedings.”            “On the contrary, Mrs. Paley.” Jonathan’s smile was polite and proper, but his eyes were not. His gaze caressed her body boldly and appreciatively, making her want to grab her shawl and cover her bare arms and low neckline. “I am very much interested in your opinion of these proceedings. Do tell me.”            “I must say I find this spirit business quite unhealthy.” She lifted her chin, ignoring her aunt’s disapproving glare. After all, he had asked for her opinion and she fully intended to give it to him. “I have lost my husband too, and I know how devastating it can be. But, one mustn’t dwell on the past like this. One must go on with one’s life. And perhaps find someone else to love.”            Virginia broke off suddenly. She hadn’t intended to say those last few words. They tumbled out before she could stop them. Unnerved, she pressed her lips tightly together, lest the other, more suggestive words that filled her mind escape.            “You have a very sensible argument, Mrs. Paley.” Jonathan turned away from her and gazed into the depths of his china cup, as though he were trying to read an oracle from it. “Still, when you lose your one true love, anything— no matter how strange and unorthodox it might be—which offers some kind of hope of finding that love again is worth exploring. If there is one chance in a million that it could be genuine, then one must take that chance, mustn’t one?”            His voice trailed off into a husky whisper. Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out his handkerchief and pressed it to his nose. After a moment, he recovered himself and tucked the handkerchief back into his pocket.            “I had better be going. It’s growing late.” He drained his cup, placed it back onto the tray, then turned to Virginia. “Will I see you here next week, Mrs. Paley?”            Virginia bit her lip. She hadn’t planned on having anything more to do with the Society for Eternal Love. But that was before she gazed into his captivating eyes and felt the pang of longing that those eyes aroused within her. “Are you planning on being here next week?”            “Indeed, I had planned on doing just that. And I urge you to do the same.” His tone grew intense. “It is very important that all of us who have lost loved ones believe that true love endures beyond the grave, or we shall all perish from grief.”            Virginia turned and found Aunt Marian gazing at her with an eager expression. Behind her, Chadwick loomed like a specter, fixing Virginia with another of his piercing looks.            “Well, dear?” Marian demanded. “Will you come back next week?”            Virginia faltered for a moment. Every instinct she had told her to run and not look back at these two people— her beloved aunt and this disturbingly attractive man—who so compelled her to return to this madhouse.            She glanced up at Chadwick, then looked away with a shudder. “I shall consider it.”            Jonathan regarded her with a raised eyebrow for a moment. Wearing that mysterious half-smile she had seen several times during the evening, he bid Chadwick and Aunt Marian goodnight, then retreated into the hallway. He retrieved a silk top hat from a rack in the corner gathered up what looked like a full-length cape which men who frequent the opera often wore and headed for the door.            Virginia waited until her aunt had rejoined the knot of women, then edged her way into the hallway after him, making sure that no one lurked close enough to overhear.            She knew she was taking a terrible risk. No doubt by now, her aunt had informed Chadwick that she was less than impressed by his demonstration. But she couldn’t bring herself to allow this tormented man out of her sight without one final word of warning.            “Mr. Bradshaw.” As he turned around to face her, she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Please forgive me for being so forward. I know I have absolutely no business interfering in your affairs. But I fear that this man and his so-called ‘spirit messages’ is taking dreadful advantage of my aunt’s grief. I should hate to see you taken advantage of as well.”            He made no reply for several moments, his handsome face wearing an expression Virginia couldn’t quite name. He seemed to be choosing his words with care before uttering them.            “I deeply appreciate your concern.” He kept his voice low and conspiratorial. “And I assure you I have no intention of allowing myself to be taken advantage of. But this is something I must investigate—both for my sake and the sake of my adored Susan. You understand, of course.”            “Of course.” Virginia lowered her gaze. In spite of all her best intentions, she had been much too bold and judgmental. Or perhaps she was just jealous of a dead woman. “Good night, Mr. Bradshaw.”            “Good night, Mrs. Paley.” Jonathan took her hand in his and caressed her palm for a long moment before releasing released it. Virginia felt her pulses suddenly throb. His touch held the same sense of intimacy that she had seen in his eyes—eyes that weren’t those of a man in mourning. “Until we meet again.”

About the Author:
From her first poem at age 10 and her first short story at age 12, Anne hasn’t been able to help writing about her two favorite things—magic and love. An unrepentant nerd, Anne started out in biomedical research but ended up writing software manuals instead. She spent many years as a member of science fiction and historical reenactment groups and has been at various times a Renaissance scholar, a druidess, a pirate wench, a saloon floozy, a belly dancer and a chainmail-wearing warrior maiden.
Still, her first love is writing. It doesn’t matter whether the story is set in the Middle Ages, Victorian times, the present day or far in the future. If it has both love and magic, Anne will write about it. Anne also writes young adult historical fantasy under the name of Ann Finnin.
A native of Southern California, Anne lives in the hills above Los Angeles with her husband Dave, and a Dog of Indeterminate Breed named Rufus.
http://www.anneroebuck.com
https://www.facebook.com/Anne-Roebuck-522920161244051

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Conversion by Maria Hammarblad

Conversion
Maria Hammarblad

Genre: Space Opera

Publisher: Sadowski Media

Date of Publication: June 16, 2014
ISBN: 1500214736ASIN: B00L1YQUSA
Number of pages: 100Word Count: 19226
Cover Artist: Juan Villar Padron
Tagline: Run for your life, or submit to the Conversion!
Book Description:
Rhodesia runs through the forest, hunted by creatures wearing the faces of people she loves. They plead to her to wait in the voices of her family, and the sound sends chills down her back. What is worse? Succumbing, and becoming a mindless drone with the others, or perishing in the forest, alone?
Roy Planter is a man with a mission, and he has no intention of staying on a plague-ridden planet where more humans turn into mindless drones every day. Being stuck in a city, grouped with a sword-wielding stick insect of a man and a busty blonde with a too vivid sense of humor are only temporary setbacks. He's leaving, first chance he gets. At least that's what he thinks until Rhodesia arrives. Caring for someone will not make his life easier, but can he really leave her behind?
Kindle      Paperback



Excerpt:
How could such a small building have so many stairs?A soft shuffling noise caught Rhodesia’s attention. It was too stealthy to be anyone she knew.Had the Nats made it in here? They could have been waiting.Alone and unarmed. Great.She jogged down the corridor as quietly as she could. Maybe they wouldn’t see her if she got around the corner.Planter stepped out of the shadows, surprising her. She almost yelped and gave them away. He slammed an arm around her waist and pulled her into a small closet. She had to press herself against him to fit in the nook, but at the moment physical closeness came second to brewing panic. Were they close?How would it feel to be assimilated?Would anything of her own self remain?Her imagination painted out a process of melting, her mind losing cohesion, memories and identity vanishing, and becoming a part of a new whole; the whole of the machine.“Shh.”He pulled her closer, clearly trying to get her attention, and she realized she was breathing with noisy puffs of air. Planter hushed her again and she buried her face against his chest to quiet her panting.
He might not like having her close, but he’d just have to live with it.
About the Author:
Maria Hammarblad is a Swedish author and bass player whose fascination with books started early. Before she could read or write, she made her mother staple papers together to resemble books. She drew suns in them and claimed they were "The Sun Book." They were all about the sun. The four-year old also claimed her existence on Earth was a mistake, the result of a horrible mix-up, and that her real family would come to bring her home to her own planet at any time. This didn't happen, but her fascination with books and other worlds stayed with her.
Besides novels, she also writes award-winning screenplays, enjoys photography, and works with animal rescue organizations.
Website: http://www.hammarblad.com
Blog: http://www.scifiromance.info
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mariahammarblad/
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/mariahammarblad
Goodreads:https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4114780.Maria_Hammarblad

The Wish of Xmas Present by N.D. Jones - Deck the Halls with Books Holiday Extravaganza

The Wish of Xmas Present Emoji LoveDr. Malcolm Styles and Dr. Sky Ellis are the hero and heroine in The Perks of Higher Ed and The Wish of Xmas Present , the first two books in the Styles of Love contemporary romance trilogy. One of their relationship trademarks is their exchange of fun text messages and silly emojis. Malcolm started the trend, using both to get to know Sky and to test the romance waters between them.He pulled his cell phone from his pants pocket and sent Sky an emoji with a pink bow on her head, bright-red heart-shaped lips pursed for a kiss, long curling lashes, sparkling blue eyes, and huge breasts. It wasn’t totally tasteless. The emoji did wear a pink bra to cover nonexistent nipples.
Sky, conservative but a closet prankster with a wicked sense of humor, is more than capable of matching Malcolm.
His phone dinged with a text message notification almost immediately. His lady’s feminism never disappointed, neither did her lack of romanticism.You’re shameless, Dr. Styles. Her breasts are nearly as big as her head.She ended her message with an orange President’s Day emoji of Donald Trump holding a cell phone and tweeting: #notfakenews #mydayoff.President’s Day? It’s September. At least send me a Hispanic Heritage Month emoji.
When Christmas is upon them, Malcolm knows the right text message to send his Christmas bell.
The cell phone in her hand buzzed. Bringing the screen to life, Sky hit the message icon and read the text.Your sleigh awaits. Meet me in the foyer.Above Malcolm’s message was an image of a red-nosed reindeer emoji.
Contemporary romance is a great opportunity to include all kinds of popular culture into a novel. Texting and emojis are two fun inclusions to this holiday-themed novel.
Sky has compiled some of her favorite Christmas emojis for Malcolm she’d like to share. She kept her choices PG-13. If you want to know which emojis made it to Sky’s Naughty But Nice list, you’ll have to ask Malcolm.
What’s your favorite Christmas emoji?




The Wish of Xmas Present
The Styles of LoveBook TwoN.D. Jones

Genre: Contemporary Romance/Holiday Romance

Publisher: Kuumba Publishing

Date of Publication: December 21, 2018



ISBN: 9781732556751
ASIN: B07HLHN9H8
Number of pages: 292Word Count: 80k
Cover Artist: Limabean Designs
Tagline: The greatest gift of all is the love we share with each other…
Book Description:
As love blooms and familial bonds are forged, the spirit of the season welcomes us home and offers us a chance to dream. Dr. Malcolm Styles and Dr. Sky Ellis’s whirlwind office romance, a sexy perk of higher ed, has swept them off their feet. Now that the winds of change have settled, Malcolm and Sky find, as the Christmas holiday approaches, a chance to make a deeper connection.
For Malcolm, he has only one wish for the winter holiday of goodwill, mistletoe, and decorations. Will his wish make it to Santa’s list, granting Malcolm a joyful Noel, or will Jack Frost smother his cheer in a blizzard of disappointment?
As Malcolm and Sky traverse the landscape of romance and love, they find themselves on a journey of self-discovery and bonding. For ‘tis the season of caring and with it comes the blessings of family, hope, and faith.
Amazon     Kobo      BN     iBooks

Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/VLPEZ8pvV5s




About the Author:
N. D. Jones is a USA Today bestselling author who lives in Maryland with her husband and two children. She is a dedicated educator, committed to equitable and excellent education for all students. N.D. has served in the role as teacher, department chair, and professional development teacher specialist, supporting the learning of students and the professional growth of teachers.
N.D. is the founder of Kuumba Publishing, an art, audiobook, eBook, and paperback company. Kuumba Publishing is a forum for creativity, with a special commitment to promoting and encouraging creative works of authors and artists of African descent. Her teenage daughter created the image design for Kuumba Publishing, while her son has written a role playing game original character bio for a new paranormal romance series--making Kuumba Publishing a true family affair.
A desire to see more novels with positive, sexy, and three-dimensional African American characters as soul mates, friends, and lovers, inspired the author to take on the challenge of penning such romantic reads. She is the author of two paranormal romance series: Winged Warriors and Death and Destiny. She's also embarked on a science fiction romance series, Forever Yours. N.D. likes to read historical and paranormal romance novels, as well as comics and manga.
Website: https://www.ndjonesparanormalpleasure.com/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/NDJones
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ndjonesparanormalromanceauthor/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/NDJonesAuthor
Newsletter: https://www.ndjonesparanormalpleasure.com/newsletter


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A Bewitching Thursday

In The Kitchen with Aletta Thorne : Mussels In White Wine #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/n2Lt30mNsaW

Flash Fiction and Guest Blog - Girly-Girl by Thomas Briar #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/hV3w30mNs4e

Please Welcome Jane S. Morrissey as She Tells Us About Her Paranormal Romance, Circle of Flames, Quytel Series, Book Two #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/IETY30mNrYN

Sons of Darkness by Gail Z. Martin: Book Tour Spotlight with Giveaway #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/vBsC30mMuOe

Two vampires, a grizzly bear, and a werewolf...
A heartwarming Christmas ménage romance.
Unexpected Gifts: Pleasure Times Four
The Chattanooga Supernaturals Book 9
Candace Blevins
https://books2read.com/UnexpectedGiftsCB
#holidays #menage #romance #erotic #paranormal #vampires #werewolves #bearshifter #HappySupernaturalHolidays #paranormalchristmas #BDSM #erotica #PNRBDSM